Family Business
by l0ngl0st
Summary: At 23, Tadashi is a rising star, heading a company that promises to revolutionize healthcare and robotics. But behind the scenes, he has a widening gap to bridge between himself and his brother, a business deal to negotiate, and a new employee with a questionable past. / An exploration of the families we are born into and the ones we find. Multi-chaptered. AU.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **So, this is all thanks to the wonderful Big Sis AU suggested by appleye over on tumblr. It also marks my first multi-chaptered fic for the Big Hero 6 fandom. I'm really excited about this, guys! Please let me know what you think, and you can also interact with me over on tumblr (url is amillion-smiles) :)

* * *

_Prologue: The Starting Line  
_

* * *

There were bad ideas, and then there were Bad Ideas.

Hiro, it seemed, was awfully good at getting involved with the latter. Geniuses or not, twelve-year-olds had no place on San Fransokyo's streets during the nighttime, a fact made more glaringly obvious by the glint of Yama's grin as he and his goons advanced.

"Look guys, I'm sure we can work something out…" Hiro trailed off nervously, wincing as the back of his sneaker scraped against the concrete wall behind him. The wad of cash he'd won crinkled in the pocket of his hoodie as he held Happy, his bot, closer to his chest, eyes darting around the alley.

He needed space. With enough range and his remote controller, Hiro could make short work of these guys, but Happy wasn't built for close contact. Neither, cringed Hiro, was he. He figured he could take about two punches before he'd be saying _sayonara_ to his two front teeth, among other things.

_Goodbye, world. It's been fun._

"Lights out, Zero," said Yama, his arm rearing back.

Hiro closed his eyes. Braced himself.

And ducked.

"_YARGH!"_ bellowed Yama as his fist collided with the concrete. Hiro blinked at the massive man's arm in amazement before survival instincts took over. He darted around Yama's stunned bulk, evading the grasping arms of Yama's friends.

_I can't believe that worked…those idiots—_

The laugh bubbling up in his throat was quickly choked off as someone grabbed his hood, yanking him to a stop.

_Well, shit._

Unbidden, an image of Tadashi appeared in Hiro's mind, his brow puckered in disappointment as he scolded, _"No cursing, Hiro." _But Tadashi wasn't here to chastise him or bail him out. Hiro kicked at his captors, legs flailing uselessly as he was dragged upwards so that his feet no longer touched the ground. Someone pinned his arms close to his side as Yama advanced, looking more feral than ever.

"Nobody gets away from _me,_" he enunciated, punctuating his threat with a sharp jab to Hiro's chest. The reddened skin of his knuckles stood out under the moonlight.

Hiro squirmed. If this was what staring death in the face felt like, he didn't like it one bit, and Yama's putrid breath was the only thing distracting Hiro from the fact that things had stopped being a laughing matter the minute he'd left the club. If there was one thing he had learned from his nighttime escapades, it was that you could root for the underdog all you wanted, but the minute you were outside the bot-fighting ring? You bet on the big guy.

To distract himself from his impending fate, Hiro looked up at the sky, choosing to fixate on the scattering of stars. They seemed brighter tonight. Perfect for a final prayer.

_I'll do whatever you want. I'll give up gummy bears and Aunt Cass's hot wings—just please, please get me out of this alive._

He held his breath. Maybe if he passed out, it wouldn't hurt as much; there was always that hope.

And then, out of nowhere: a roar.

It was the most glorious sound Hiro had ever heard. Above him, the sky became blotted out by the dark silhouette of a motorbike descending from the clouds like some avenging angel. Yama and his men scattered to avoid being flattened, dropping Hiro in their desperation to get away. He fell to his knees, coughing, barely regaining his breath before the black-clad rider hoisted him onto the motorbike, revved the engine, and _sped._

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa!"_ yelped Hiro, throwing his arms around the rider to prevent from falling off the back end of the vehicle. He hadn't escaped from getting smashed in the face only to become a skid mark in the middle of the street, anyways. Tadashi was probably turning over in his sleep right now—_hopping on some stranger's motorbike, Hiro? Really?—_but Hiro couldn't find it in himself to care; he was too relieved.

Besides, it was kind of exhilarating. This rider obviously knew what he was doing, weaving in and out of traffic without a care in the world. He was small, Hiro noticed, but it made him seem more sleek and streamlined as he hunched over the handlebars.

They pulled to a stop at the corner right before one of the busier streets. Hiro took his cue, sliding off the bike and hopping onto the sidewalk.

"Thanks, ma—_wo_man," he corrected quickly as his savior removed her helmet, revealing a shock of black hair streaked with purple and a pair of defiant eyes outlined by black eyeliner and pale purple eyeshadow.

"You okay?" she asked, raking a hand through her short hair.

He was _more_ than okay. He was—

"That was _awesome_!" gushed Hiro. "I've never seen anyone drive like that—and where'd you get these _wheels_?" He got closer to the curb, nearly falling over as he bent his neck to inspect the tire treads.

The girl snorted, but the way she leaned protectively against her bike told Hiro that she was pleased with his compliment. "What are you—ten?"

"Twelve," he corrected, undaunted by her tone.

"Still way too young to be getting involved with Yama and his buffoons."

"You know them?"

She rolled her eyes, a burst of pink squeezing past her lips as she exhaled a bubble of gum. "Everyone from my part of town does."

"Oh. Well, thanks for saving me from them."

"You have anywhere to go?"

"Yeah. My brother's probably awake by now, so he should find me—"

"_Hiro!"_ called a frantic voice as several cars honked, and Hiro caught sight of a red moped approaching from farther down the street.

"_And_ that would be him."

Satisfied that Hiro was now in better hands, the girl pulled her helmet back over her head and slung a leg over the side of her bike. She waited, poised at the edge of the curb, until Tadashi pulled completely into view, face red from a mixture of exertion and panic. His shirt was on inside-out, and Hiro felt slightly embarrassed on his behalf, especially when he compared Tadashi's dingy moped to the girl's jet-black _beast_ of a ride.

Hiro wanted one really, really badly.

Tadashi's face loomed into view, interrupting Hiro's fantasy. _"Hiro Hamada,"_ he thundered, shaking Hiro by the shoulders, "what on _earth_ were you thinking, sneaking off like that—are you hurt? Did you break anything? _Are you even listening to me?_"

"Bye!" Hiro called, watching the girl peel away from the sidewalk. She raised her hand in a two-fingered salute as she disappeared.

Exasperated, Tadashi made sure she was gone before turning back to Hiro and flicking the side of his head. "_Knucklehead._ You're grounded, do you hear me?"

_Driving that thing probably feels like flying,_ Hiro thought instead.

"Yeah, yeah."

o.O.o

It wasn't that Hiro didn't learn from his mistakes. It was just that quick cash and the thrill of winning spoke louder than his common sense these days.

He'd honored Tadashi's week-long moratorium, but that just meant that he and Happy, now free, were itching for a good fight. Hiro had purposely picked a lesser-known arena tonight, one where he knew Yama wouldn't be. Besides, with the space of a week between them, his earlier encounter with Yama seemed less frightening and more like the kind of story you told your cafeteria buddies, complete with sound effects.

So he left the club that night with full confidence that he would get home in one piece.

And promptly ran straight into someone.

"Watch where you're going, kid," said a silky voice, and Hiro looked up to find white teeth glimmering sharply in the darkness.

If Yama reminded him of a rhino, this man reminded Hiro of a snake—lean and coiled and sharpened finesse. He had a cigarette clamped between his teeth and regarded Hiro coolly through lidded eyes.

Hiro's blood slowed and he took a tiny, hesitant step backwards.

The man's smile widened. He snapped his fingers, extending a hand. "Hey, I know. How about we make a deal—"

The sound of an engine cut him off. Twin headlights cut through the gloom.

"Sorry, but this one's mine," said a voice, clipped but clear, before Hiro found himself hauled away.

He was better prepared this time and wasted no time wrapping his arms around the rider's waist. The wind made his eyes water, but Hiro raised his voice above the air rushing past his ears to greet, "Hey, it's you again!"

"Don't sound so excited," she grunted, veering left.

o.O.o

"So do you have a death wish or are you just stupid?"

Hiro was starting to lose track, but he was pretty sure this was their fifth time meeting. Or the fifth time he'd escaped by the skin of his teeth, if you wanted to be a pessimist about it.

"Wow, you don't pull any punches," he said, tightening his grip as they accelerated through the intersection just before the light transitioned to red.

"Woman up."

Hiro stayed silent, pondering. "Hey, so, do you have a name or something…?"

"GoGo."

"GoGo," Hiro repeated. "That's really—" he waited until they had pulled to a stop, "—fitting."

She pulled her helmet off and swiveled to face him, smirking. "Really."

"Really." He scrambled off, making sure nothing had fallen out of his pockets. "I'm—"

"Hiro."

"Yeah. Wait, how'd you know—oh, right, that one time with Tadashi."

GoGo tilted her head. "Do you not get along with your brother?"

Hiro blinked. "No. We're pretty close, actually. What makes you think otherwise?"

"I can't imagine he'd be very happy with this." She gestured to their surroundings: graffitied walls, an overflowing dumpster, the dim flicker of a streetlight and the flyers peeling off a telephone pole.

"That's because he thinks I'm going to get myself hurt or locked up."

"With good reason."

"Well, yeah. But now he doesn't have to worry, because I've got someone like you to bail me out. I mean, you've saved me five times in a row now. What are the odds of that? It's almost like you're watching out for me or something."

GoGo stiffened, glaring. "I'm not your nanny."

"No, but…" Hiro trailed off, an idea taking shape. "Have you ever been to a bot fight?"

"Heard of them."

"Do you want to go to one?"

GoGo crossed her arms. "Get to the point."

"I was just thinking that you don't look like someone people would want to mess with. So, like, if you accompanied me to these things, maybe I'd stop getting cornered afterwards. And then that saves you the trouble of sweeping in and grabbing me." When GoGo didn't look convinced, Hiro added, "I could pay you or something. Like a security detail."

GoGo pursed her lips, blowing a bubble. "How much?"

"Um…like, ten dollars?"

GoGo raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, twenty."

Nodding, GoGo held out a hand; the fabric of her fingerless gloves rubbed against Hiro's palm as he took it and shook, firmly.

"Deal."

o.O.o

Knowing that there was at least one person in the room _not_ out to get him was a big confidence booster. Hiro walked out of the bot-fighting arena that night with nearly three hundred dollars of prize money.

"_Man_ do I wish this was legal," he said, reveling in the sound of the bills slapping together as he waved them in the air.

"The law ain't gonna save you from this," someone sneered, detaching himself from where he'd been leaning against the side of the dumpster. He was wearing an oversized Hawaiian-print shirt and had a hunched way of walking, his hands shoved in his jean pockets as if he had all the time in the world. Two figures joined him, and Hiro internally groaned. Greasy-haired Gabe and the Bandana Brothers. He'd heard about them: slow, liked to talk big. Nothing to worry about unless you were outnumbered three to one and half their size.

He snuck a glance over his shoulder, stomach dropping when he realized that GoGo was nowhere to be found. _Stupid._ He'd been so caught up in his winnings that he hadn't bothered to check if she'd actually followed him when he left. She hadn't collected her payment yet, but Hiro knew that if _he'd_ had to choose between twenty dollars and getting away from a sticky situation in one piece, he'd definitely have picked the latter.

He swallowed, returning his gaze to Greasy-haired Gabe. "Um, so—"

"What's the hold-up, Hiro?"

Hiro breathed a sigh of relief, turning to see GoGo leaning against the doorway, something silver swinging from her hand. His eyes widened. _Holy crap, when did she get a wrench?_

"GoGo?" blurted one of the Bandana Brothers, squinting as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"Jeff," GoGo acknowledged curtly, walking down the stairs to stand beside Hiro, her arms folded across her chest. "Mind telling me why you're giving my brother a hard time?"

"I didn't know you had a brother," said Greasy-haired Gabe, frowning.

GoGo laughed, but there was something dry about it. Hiro wondered what her real laugh sounded like. "I try to forget about it sometimes, too," she said, slinging an arm around Hiro's neck in a gesture of familiarity. "Tried to keep him out of the circuit for as long as I could, but I guess it runs in the family." She shrugged, the wrench tapping against her thigh. "You guys headed somewhere?"

"Yes," swallowed Greasy-haired Gabe, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "We were just about to leave."

He and the Bandana Brothers backpedaled before turning their backs to Hiro and GoGo completely and slinking away. Hiro watched them go, his heart thumping in his chest, before he shifted slightly to regard GoGo out of the corner of his eye. Her face was impassive in the moonlight.

"They knew you," remarked Hiro once he was sure that they were completely alone.

GoGo shrugged, stepping away from him. "A lot of people do."

"But you don't go to bot fights."

"There's more to do in the Dragon District than bot-fight, Hiro."

His interest was piqued, now. He followed GoGo to her bike, asking, "Like what?"

"I'll tell you some other time. Just get on the bike."

"All right, all right. Whatever you say…_big sis_," grinned Hiro, unable to resist the opportunity.

GoGo paused. For a tense moment, Hiro thought she was going to punch him.

Instead, she reached over and shoved his head slightly, ruffling his hair.

"Watch it," she warned.

o.O.o

"This is a restaurant," said Hiro, staring up at the ruby red eyes of the metal dragon perched above the entrance.

"Good job, genius," said GoGo, parking her bike. Hiro watched her lock it. She was in a good mood today, as close to "bouncy" as Hiro imagined GoGo could ever be. Pride seemed to radiate off her, and she held her head higher, her shoulders more upright. "What do you feel like eating?"

"I don't have any money," he said, scrambling to catch up. For someone with such short legs, GoGo walked fast.

"But _I _do." GoGo stuck a crisp fifty-dollar bill in Hiro's face.

"Whoa, _sweet_," Hiro said, making a grab for it at the same time GoGo yanked it out of reach, shoving it back into the folds of her leather jacket. "Where'd you get that?"

She flashed him an enigmatic smile. "You've got your ways, I've got mine."

"Come _on_," whined Hiro, but any other words he had died in his throat as GoGo pushed open the doors of the restaurant.

It smelled heavenly. Like duck fat and steamed lotus buns, and Hiro's mouth watered as a server walked by carrying a platter of leafy snow pea shoots. A warm, buttery light diffused through the whole restaurant, and GoGo had to grab his sleeve to get him to keep walking.

They collapsed into a cozy booth tucked out of the way. The stuffing was a little ripped, and the silverware seemed a bit tarnished, but Hiro overlooked all of these things the minute the menu arrived.

"Oh _man,_" he groaned, eyes scanning his options, "I don't know where to begin."

GoGo smirked, one elbow resting along the top of the booth, raising her other hand to flag down a waiter. "I do."

o.O.o

Hiro was stuffed. About to explode. He couldn't eat another—_well_, maybe _one_ more dumpling.

GoGo rolled her eyes as Hiro reached for the last dumpling on the plate before sagging back against the seat.

"Mmph," he groaned. "These are _amazing._"

Guiltily, he realized that he hadn't even thought to ask GoGo before grabbing the last piece of food. She didn't seem to mind, though. Rather, she was playing with the straw of her drink, looking thoughtful.

"Hey, GoGo?"

GoGo's eyes flickered up.

"Do you actually have any siblings?"

GoGo looked surprised, mouth dropping open slightly before she closed it tightly and shook her head. "No."

"Do you want any?"

"Sometimes." A teasing spark entered her eyes. "If I had a brother, though, he'd never sneak out on my watch."

Hiro shrugged. "What Tadashi doesn't know won't hurt him."

"How do you manage it, anyways? Sleeping pills?"

"Nah," said Hiro, taking Happy out and playing with its components. "Tadashi's just been really busy at school working on his project, so when he gets home he's usually out cold."

GoGo's eyes narrowed. "When do _you_ sleep, if you're running around town all night?"

"In class." And then, because he couldn't stand the disappointment blooming on GoGo's face, for some reason, he added, "I still get good grades, though!"

"Right."

"Honest! I'll bring my report card some time as proof."

"Okay, Hiro," said GoGo, cracking a smile. "Let's get you home."

"Hey, what—" spluttered Hiro, practically falling out of the booth as he rushed to follow GoGo, "what's with you treating me like a little kid all of a sudden?"

"You _are_ a little kid."

"Not _that_ little."

"I'm six years older. Trust me, you're little."

"Blah blah blah," grumbled Hiro, clambering on behind GoGo as they got ready to pull out of the lot. "Hey, you want to know something that just occurred to me?"

"What?" asked GoGo, her voice muffled by the helmet.

"Isn't it kind of dangerous for me to be riding this without a helmet? I mean, I could fall off and crack my head open or something."

He could almost hear her smirking. "Since when did you care about safety rules, Hiro?"

"Since, like, three seconds ago," said Hiro as they joined the flow of traffic. "Honestly, though, that might be something to think about. It'd be a good investment."

"What makes you so sure I want you sticking around?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm awesome. You obviously want me sticking around," said Hiro, gaining momentum as he spoke. "You wouldn't have bought me dinner if you didn't."

There was a long pause as they waited for the light to turn green, and Hiro wondered if he'd overstepped some invisible line. But as they started forward again, GoGo murmured, "True."

Something warm spread through his chest at her words. It was different than the feeling he got from bot-fighting; deep down, Hiro knew that GoGo's compassion wasn't something that could be won, only earned. And it felt reassuring, knowing he had it.

He dug his chin into her back, yawning. "Thanks for tonight, GoGo. It was pretty fun."

"More fun than bot-fighting?"

"Not quite. But close."

o.O.o

She'd gotten him a helmet.

Hiro stared, not quite believing his eyes. It was purple, with two red stripes running down the sides, and felt relatively light as he turned it over in his hands, inspecting it.

"Wow, GoGo, I'm…_wow._"

"Better take good care of it," she said, simply, adjusting her biker gloves.

A sudden thought occurred to Hiro. "Wait, but where am I going to keep it? Tadashi'll see, and then he'll wonder—"

He was cut off by the sound of GoGo's laugh—a real one this time. It wasn't high-pitched or dainty or anything like Hiro had imagined it would be; it was something solid, grounding, like the rest of the world could pass her by and GoGo would still be there, laughing.

"You're a genius, Hiro," she said, the smile not leaving her face. "You'll figure it out."

o.O.o

He needed to get out of here.

The midnight crowd was beginning to filter in, and Hiro was ready to call it quits. One problem, remained, however: GoGo was nowhere to be seen.

They didn't always show up together. GoGo had a life of her own, and Hiro had no problem finding the gambling dens. But he'd gotten used to always _leaving_ with GoGo by his side, the calming, protective air that her presence conferred. In some of the dens, word had spread that he was GoGo's brother, bestowing him with another badge of security. Hiro surmised that GoGo was some sort of underground celebrity, though he hadn't yet figured out what she was famous for, and she hadn't told him of her own accord.

Surreptitiously, he texted her before the next round started: _where r u?_

"All right, ladies and gentlemen! Taking wagers for Round Two!" the announcer looked at him over her shoulder. "You still in?"

"Yep," said Hiro, sweating in his jacket. _Just stay in the ring._ As long as he was in the ring, he was safe.

His run was short-lived, however. Hiro couldn't keep his mind from wandering, eyes examining the crowd every so often. A flash of purple caught his attention and he zeroed in on it; by the time he realized it was just one of the roller geisha and returned his gaze to the ring, Happy had been down for the count for too long.

"That's a match!" said the announcer as some members of the audience groaned. "Next challenger?"

Hiro gathered up Happy's remains and his earnings and edged out of the ring, looking for the nearest exit. Most people were vying for a position in the next round, which was good, but there were a few characters toward the back of the room that Hiro didn't like the look of.

He ducked into the bathroom, hoping that any potential pursuers would be thrown off or too impatient to sit around and wait. Heaving a sigh of relief, he locked the door behind him and sunk down onto the grubby tiles, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Still no response from GoGo.

He checked the time. _11:56._ He could wait half an hour…

Half an hour turned into forty minutes and then into fifty. By then, Hiro had played several rounds of San Fransokyo Space Bots on his phone, and the flashing red symbol in the corner warned him that his battery was low. He needed to get home.

Hiro sighed, resting his head against the door and swallowing past the dread in his stomach. When had he become so cowardly? He'd gotten by before without GoGo—he could do so again.

Shoving away any doubts, Hiro cracked the door open slowly, scanning the darkened hallway. He could still hear people hooting and hollering from farther in the building, and he used the noise to mask his departure, cringing when he stepped on a creaky floorboard.

Once he was outside in the courtyard, Hiro sucked in a huge breath, gulping in the musky nighttime—or did it count as early morning, now?—air.

_There, that wasn't so hard._

"Well, well, well."

Jumping, Hiro whirled around. Greasy-haired Gabe and the Bandana Brothers were back, and this time their eyes seemed sharper. The lazy edge had disappeared, replaced with a knowing gleam.

"Hello, Hiro," oozed Gabe.

"H-hello," stammered Hiro, trying to stand his ground. He called up an image of GoGo, trying to emulate her stance, the casual posture that promised a world of retribution if you threatened it.

"Where's your sister?"

"Busy."

Greasy-haired Gabe chuckled, one corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other. "Busy with what?"

"I…" _I don't know._

"Heard you cleaned up real good in there, Hiro," said Gabe, making a motion behind his back to the brothers. Hiro watched them warily as they peeled away from Gabe's side and began to flank him instead.

"Leave me alone," he said, fighting to keep his voice from trembling. _GoGo where are you please I need you please come speeding in on your motorbike please—_

"We will," Gabe said smoothly, watching as Hiro started to scramble backwards—_too late—_and tripped. One of the Bandana Brothers caught him, and Hiro thrashed in his grip, fear clawing its way up from his stomach until he couldn't think of anything else. He'd forgotten how it felt to be alone, really alone, with no way out, and anger and despair collided in his gut in equal measure—he was so helpless and he _hated_ it—

"Easy there, little guy," soothed Gabe, reaching into Hiro's pocket and taking out the cash, and then he was nodding at the Bandana Brothers to let Hiro go and Hiro's knees and hands were hitting the gray stone of the courtyard but all he could see was _red_—

He charged without thinking, launching himself onto Gabe's back as Gabe turned away. Gabe's surprise was short-lived; in a flash, he threw Hiro off. Hiro gasped as his back made contact with the ground, stunned.

"You little _punk_!" Gabe was advancing now, the cords of his neck taut with anger, the cloak of nonchalance having vanished. "When I say stay down, you _stay down, _you hear?" He drew back and kicked Hiro.

The blow sent a sharp flare of pain up Hiro's side and he curled inwards, hissing. Above him, he could make out one of the Bandana Brothers—what had GoGo called him? Jeff?—pulling Gabe away, saying, "He's just a kid, Gabe. Let's go."

"Yeah, run away, Gabe," Hiro taunted, struggling to push himself up with the hand not clutching his side, "You're just a big, stupid _coward_—"

"I _said,_" hissed Gabe, breaking free of Jeff's grip and stomping towards Hiro, "to _stay down._"

This time, he went for Hiro's face.

o.O.o

"Hiro? Hiro, god, please wake up…Hiro?"

"Tadashi?" Hiro said weakly, opening his eyes slowly and watching as his brother's face swam into view, hazy and out of focus.

"Right here. I'm—here, can you sit up?" One of Tadashi's arms reached around him, easing him into a sitting position. He could hear police sirens in the distance and wondered, absentmindedly, if they were coming for him. It felt like a car alarm had gone off in his head—there was an incessant throbbing in his temple.

"How bad is it?" he asked, taking note of the way Tadashi bit his lip as he inspected him.

"You're going to have a black eye," said Tadashi, cradling his face. "Other than that, it's hard for me to tell. How do you feel?"

_Fine,_ Hiro wanted to say, but his heart wasn't in it. _Scared. Humiliated._ And he knew it wasn't fair, but a tiny part of him blamed GoGo, whispering, _this wouldn't have happened if she'd been here_, except GoGo was gone and maybe he'd never see her again. _Definitely,_ Hiro corrected himself. He'd definitely never see her again, because Tadashi had been right—it was stupid to leave the house and sneak out to bot fights when it all ended up like this, one way or another. People hated you if you knew too much or won too much; they built you up just to let you down.

"Awful," Hiro finally decided, the tears hot and heavy as he finally released his hurt and frustration, sagging forward in Tadashi's arms. "I want—" he took a ragged breath, "I want to go home."

"I know," murmured Tadashi, rubbing circles on Hiro's back, careful not to press against Hiro's swollen eye, "I know."

And Hiro sat and cried and hugged the one person who wouldn't leave him, no matter what.


	2. Five Years Later

**A/N: **Two chapters in three days? I'm on a roll, guys. :P

* * *

_Chapter 1: Five Years Later_

* * *

"Hiro Hamada, get your feet _off of that desk_!"

Hiro nearly tipped backwards in his swivel chair as Wasabi barged in, eyes blazing. He loomed over Hiro, rapping one hand against the wooden surface between them.

"This is cherry wood. It is for your laptop," he gestured to Hiro's slim silver computer, "your writing utensils," he waved at the black mesh cup sitting in the corner, "your papers," he reached over and pulled open one of the side cabinets, revealing a row of folders labeled alphabetically (courtesy of Wasabi, because Hiro could never be spared to do something so tedious), "_not_ your feet, and—" Wasabi cut off abruptly, eyes narrowing as he examined the dark grain. His next words emerged almost as a shriek: _"Is that a water stain?_"

"Chill, Wasabi, chill!" said Hiro, reaching over to wipe at it with the sleeve of his hoodie. "It's…not coming off…?" he flashed his most winning smile.

Wasabi looked ready to pass out. "_Dammit,_ Hiro—"

"Swear jar."

"_Ugh!"_ Wasabi slapped the folder he'd been holding down on Hiro's desk and marched outside the room. Through the glass, Hiro watched Wasabi fish in his pockets for a quarter, depositing it in the plastic jar placed strategically by the water fountains.

(_"So you can wash your mouth out afterwards,_" Tadashi had joked.)

When Wasabi reentered, he looked a bit more levelheaded. "I can't believe our office has a swear jar," he said, shaking his head.

"That's Tadashi for you," sighed Hiro, fiddling with the Rubik's cube in his hands. "Hey, when's he getting back from his meeting, anyways?"

Wasabi checked his watch. "I'd say 1:30."

"Wow, you didn't even check the planner before you answered."

Wasabi shot him an exasperated look. "Hiro, buddy. I'm the one who _makes_ the planner."

"I know, I know," Hiro said, only half-listening as he twisted the top of his Rubik's cube, the final face clicking into place. "Ha," he declared proudly, setting the completed cube down on the table between them.

Wasabi watched him, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"What?"

"Is that what you've been doing this whole day?"

"Please," scoffed Hiro, "like this takes all day. I did other stuff."

"Like?" prompted Wasabi, crossing his arms.

"Went for a walk. Drew up some designs. Researched," listed Hiro, ticking them off on his fingers.

"Productive research or 'how much does a plasma cutter cost' research?"

Hiro jutted his chin out defensively. "Okay, I fail to see how plasma cutters _aren't_ productive—I mean, this is _literally_ 'cutting edge' technology—"

"Hiro," groaned Wasabi, before he straightened and decided to change tack. "Look, you're a bright kid."

"So they say."

"So you should be out…_doing_ things. Make friends. Meet girls. Or get an internship or something."

"Um, hello?" said Hiro, waving his hand to indicate the room around them. "Why would I get an internship when I already have my own office right here?"

"_Study space_," emphasized Wasabi.

"Whatever. Same thing."

"It is not."

"Is too. I have a desk, Tadashi has a desk. I have a swivel chair, Tadashi has a swivel chair. Tadashi has an office—therefore, I, too, have an office. The only thing I'm missing is a fancy plaque."

Wasabi remained stone-faced and silent for a beat before a reluctant smile crept onto his face. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Hiro shrugged, the fabric of his hoodie brushing against the backs of his ears. "I've had years to perfect it."

"Right, well, I've gotta get back to work," said Wasabi, picking his manila folder back up and shaking it at Hiro. "Have fun doing…whatever it is you do."

Hiro watched him go before leaning back in his chair and looking out the glass windows of the skyrise. The building itself belonged to Krei Tech, but this specific floor served as the base of operations for Hamada Industries. From Hiro's vantage point, the people below seemed like ants. Sunlight flashed off the other steel and glass buildings populating San Fransokyo's skyline, and Hiro watched the advertising blimps drift by. One of them had the Hamada Industries logo stamped on its side, with Baymax's round face printed next to it.

Hiro glanced at the corner of his office, where his own Baymax—the very first—sat peacefully compacted in his charging station.

He checked the time. _1:00._ Tadashi would be back from his meeting soon—his schedule had grown increasingly hectic over the past few months, but something told Hiro that it would all be worth it. They were onto something big; he could feel it.

In the meantime, he had some time to kill. Pulling his headphones up from around his neck, Hiro placed them over his ears and set his music to something with a solid, steady bass.

He checked to make sure the coast was clear before propping his feet up and closing his eyes.

o.O.o

Someone was watching him.

Hiro could tell from the prickly feeling he got on his nose, and, lazily, he cracked one eye open.

Sure enough, through the glass windows, Tadashi was staring at him levelly from his own desk, one eyebrow raised in an expression that clearly read: _Why aren't you working?_

There was a reason their offices were situated right across from each other. Hiro had toyed with the idea of putting up blinds, but the truth was that he enjoyed making faces at Tadashi too much. He did so now, sticking out his tongue before shutting his eyes again and cranking his music up a few notches.

The increased volume didn't prevent him from hearing when the door opened, however. Hiro pushed back from his desk, planting his feet on the ground and greeting, "Tadashi! You're back."

Tadashi leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed, the edge of his watch peeking out from under the sleeve of his suit. "I've been back for half an hour now, knucklehead. You were just too busy taking a nap."

"Right. Well, while _you_ were out schmoozing with clients, _I_ was here working on something," said Hiro, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through his files. He yanked out an assortment of papers and thrust them at Tadashi.

Tadashi left his position by the door to reach out and accept them, but his eyes flickered to Hiro's sketches only momentarily before they focused back on Hiro's face. "That's great, Hiro, but is there something else you wanted to show me…?"

"Um…"

Tadashi looked slightly pained. "Something that might have to do with the conversation you, me, and Aunt Cass had the other day?" he hinted.

"Oh. Right. _That._"

"'_That_,'" sighed Tadashi, clicking the door shut behind him and pulling a chair up to Hiro's desk, "is what you should be worried about right now. Not this." He waved Hiro's papers in the air, setting them on the table between them.

"Okay, but seriously, Tadashi, just look at them—"

"Hiro."

"_Fine_," huffed Hiro, throwing himself back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Go ahead and chew me out."

Tadashi pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to chew you out, Hiro, but I thought we talked about this—"

"Correction: you and Aunt Cass talked. I listened."

"Obviously not, because then we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"You don't have to talk down to me, Tadashi, I'm seventeen."

"_Exactly,_ Hiro," said Tadashi, pointing a finger at him. "You're _seventeen._ And the agreement was that you could take a few years after graduation to get your head on straight and figure out what you wanted to do. But time's almost up. You need to start thinking seriously about your future, planning for college. The whole idea was to wait so that you'd be the same age as your peers so you could fit in better, but at this rate you're not going anywhere until you're thirty."

"I don't even want to go to college," Hiro grumbled.

"It's not a question of whether you want to or not."

"It's my life," he argued, leaning forward and pressing his fingers together. "Think about it. What does college prepare you for? A job. Which I _basically_ already have."

"It's not about the end goal, Hiro," said Tadashi. "It's about everything that happens in between. It's about the people you meet and the things you learn."

"I learn plenty from spending time here. I already help you with product designs and everything. All you have to do is pay me and we're set. Our company is called Hamada Industries. _We're_ the Hamada brothers. It just makes sense! Come on, even _you_ can't argue with that—"

"Hiro," Tadashi repeated softly. "I'm not joking around."

It was like a switch had been flipped. Hiro felt like Baymax probably did when he was on low battery: thrown for a loop, disoriented, like he could see the facts and figures but they weren't adding up. In the silence, Tadashi rubbed his face, and, for the first time, Hiro noticed the stiffness in his shoulders and the weariness in his eyes and came to a sudden realization.

"You don't want me around."

Tadashi looked at him sharply, hand falling away from his mouth. "What? Hiro, that's not true at all."

But it was like every other time Hiro got an idea; he had to follow it to the end. Disregarding Tadashi, he plowed on: "You've been a lot busier lately. And it makes sense. If I'm away at college, then I'm out of your hair here, right?"

When Tadashi didn't say anything, Hiro repeated himself. "Right?"

"Hiro, please. Just—sit down."

He hadn't even realized he'd stood up, but restless energy coursed through his body now, causing him to start pacing. It felt like all the blood was rushing to his head.

"Aunt Cass has the shop. You've got your company. And I'm just this giant ball of wasted potential—"

"_Hiro,"_ Tadashi demanded, voice rising. The slight change in volume made Hiro halt in his tracks. "I'm just…" Tadashi sighed heavily, pushing a hand through his hair. "I'm just trying to do what our parents would want."

_And what about what I want?_ Hiro wanted to yell. He'd just wanted his brother back. He'd waited half the day to talk to him, to show him those sketches, sketches that Tadashi hadn't even spared a second glance on—and, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Wasabi approaching with his planner, which meant some other appointment or problem Tadashi had to attend to, and even while Hiro knew that his next words were unfair, he spat them out anyways.

"Our parents wouldn't be too busy with their damn company all the time."

He spared Wasabi the trouble of knocking and threw open the door, storming out of the office. Behind him, he could hear Tadashi calling his name and scrambling to get out of his seat, but Hiro kept walking—past the fake potted palm trees, the framed _San Fransokyo Institute of Technology_ diploma, the bulletin board and the water fountains. He didn't look back, and he didn't slow down.

He didn't put a quarter in the swear jar, either.

o.O.o

Baymax followed him.

Baymax always did, these days. He'd been Tadashi's gift to Hiro on Hiro's fifteenth birthday, and since then he'd become an unshakable, soft-bellied shadow.

"You are distressed," the robot intoned now, struggling to keep up as Hiro crossed the street briskly, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie.

"I am not," Hiro snapped back halfheartedly.

"Are too," Baymax replied, and with anyone else it would have seemed argumentative, but Baymax only came across as earnest. "Your heart rate is elevated. Perhaps you would like to sit down?"

Hiro narrowly missed being run over by a biker and leaped back onto the sidewalk, hitting the crosswalk button. While he waited, he looked up at Baymax, who regarded him with big, unblinking eyes.

"Hiro?" the robot repeated. "Would you like to sit down?"

Hiro sighed. His pulse was still racing from his argument with Tadashi, and it felt like he should be mad at Baymax, too, because Baymax was Tadashi's creation and Tadashi's creations were the reason he was so busy in the first place.

But it was impossible to be mad at Baymax.

"No, Baymax, let's just…let's just keep walking," Hiro decided.

o.O.o

They ended up at the park, where Hiro entertained himself with watching Baymax chase after butterflies. He also bought a Frisbee, and they occupied themselves by tossing it back and forth before Baymax threw a little bit too much weight into it and got it stuck in a tree.

"Well, that's that," said Hiro, flopping backwards in the grass after his laughter had subsided.

The grass crunched as Baymax plopped himself down beside Hiro, his head rotating and tilting to focus on the boy sprawled on the ground. "Are you feeling better?"

A surge of fondness rushed up in Hiro's chest. It was only a slight modification of words, but Baymax had become especially attuned to Hiro as the years passed. He'd taken to asking, _"Are you satisfied with your care?"_ only when he felt Hiro was ready to be truly alone. Otherwise, the question was _"Are you feeling better?"_ because it allowed Baymax to stay powered on, and it meant Hiro still had company.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Hiro inhaled deeply, soaking in the crisp San Fransokyo air. "Yeah, buddy. I am."

His eyes popped open again when his stomach growled, and Baymax focused in on the sound. "You are hungry."

"That, too," said Hiro, pushing himself up on his elbows. It was getting late; the sky had begun to darken. But he didn't want to go home yet. The air felt different, today: promising and slightly electric, ripe for the taking. "Let's stop by my house real quick. I need to grab something."

o.O.o

"I do not like this place," Baymax announced immediately.

"Yeah, well," said Hiro, reaching out to pat Baymax's soft flank, "we're here anyways."

_Here._ He had to admit, there was something comforting about knowing that you could always find San Fransokyo's criminal underbelly. Some things never changed, no matter how many renovation projects or wholesome posters you tried to plaster over them.

He hadn't set foot inside a bot-fighting ring since that fateful night five years ago, when Tadashi had found him bruised and battered in someone's courtyard. But Hiro would be lying if he said he hadn't entertained the thought once or twice since then. And now he was on a mission, thrumming with a desire to prove something, to show that he could handle himself without Tadashi's guidance.

"Next round!" a roller geisha called, circling through the crowd and raising her voice above the din. "Do we have any takers?"

"Right here." Hiro pushed to the front, Baymax lumbering behind him.

The geisha looked over his shoulder doubtfully, one hand on her hip as she regarded Baymax. "This the bot you gonna enter?" she asked, jerking her chin.

"Oh, no." Hiro stepped away from Baymax and into the ring, making sure the nurse-bot stayed behind the imaginary line. He kept his eyes on the geisha as he reached into his pocket, flashing his most disarming grin as he held Happy up to the light, the robot seeming even tinier now that his hands had grown. "This is."

o.O.o

Winning felt good. Hiro had forgotten the spark of exhilaration he got whenever an opponent suddenly got that _look_, the sinking realization that they'd underestimated their competition. Around him, he could sense that the spectators had finally started to take interest; some would-be challengers eyed him sharply, trying to assess their chances.

Once upon a time, he would have been scared. But age, combined with Baymax's calming presence off to the side, his glowing white body like a full moon, put his mind at ease. The electric buzz of the lights overhead, the peeling paint, the grunts and shuffling sounds people made as they elbowed each other out of the way to get a better view—none of that intimidated him anymore. It also helped that he had outfitted Baymax with some fight sequences (Tadashi would have a heart attack, if he ever found out) in case anyone gave him trouble.

After four rounds, Hiro had had his fill. He paid the forfeit fee and took the rest of his money, searching the crowd for Baymax. The nurse-bot had been tense throughout all the rounds, watching worriedly from the sidelines, but at least he'd been quiet, and people had stopped staring at him after a while, choosing to focus on the more exciting occurrences in the ring.

"We can go now, bud," said Hiro, taking Baymax by the arm.

Once upon a time, he would have slunk away, shoulders hunched, anything to guard from other people's stares.

But this time he walked out, head held high, Baymax close behind.

o.O.o

"Excuse me."

Hiro didn't really know if there was etiquette to adhere to when one participated in underground activities such as these, but he figured it couldn't hurt. The people in the foyer parted as he headed toward the door. In the corner, a girl accepted a wad of cash from a boy with a dragon tattoo curling up his neck, probably money from the bets they'd placed earlier. She slipped out the door ahead of Hiro, hair bunched in a short, messy ponytail right above the nape of her neck, halfway through pulling on a leather jacket as she kept walking.

Hiro froze mid-step. The walls around him seemed to constrict. _It couldn't—it can't—_

But he would have known the proud set of those shoulders anywhere.

"Your heartbeat is accelerating," Baymax said from behind him.

"I—what?" blinked Hiro, the world rushing back into focus. In front of him, the door had swung closed. Hurriedly, he crossed the threshold and threw it open, encountering only an empty street.

Cursing, Hiro dragged Baymax out, his eyes darting both ways. _She can't be gone, she was just here…_

Or maybe she'd never been, thought Hiro. It'd been five years. What were the odds? He was probably just imagining things.

The money he'd won sat in his pockets. Solid. Real.

"Is it time to go home?" asked Baymax.

Hiro stared at the street for a moment longer. An empty plastic bag scuttled across its surface, looking ghostly in the moonlight.

"Yeah," he finally decided, turning, "let's go—"

And then, from around the corner, he heard a dull roar. It got louder as it approached, headlights throwing a wide swath of gold into the street, and before Hiro could think he had broken away from Baymax's side, jumping into the middle of the road and shouting, "Wait!"

The motorbike screeched to a stop before him. Baymax was already rushing to Hiro's side, scanning him for any signs of hurt, but aside from the ringing in his ears, Hiro felt fine. In front of him, the rider shut off the lights, fingers reaching for the edge of their helmet and yanking it off in one furious motion.

"Are you an _idiot_?"

It _was_ her. Brown eyes stared back at him, sharp and demanding, while her lips pressed into a thin line. Hiro would have hugged her if she didn't look so mad.

"GoGo," he choked out instead.

The sharp line between her brows smoothened slightly as she looked at him in confusion. Her eyes darted to his jacket, then to Baymax, before she peered more closely at him.

"What—" she sucked in a breath, "the _hell_?"

"I-it's me," stammered Hiro, suddenly uncertain. The initial adrenaline and elation he'd felt began to wear off, replaced by awkwardness. "I'm—"

"Hiro." Her voice was hard, but there was a bit of wonder in it, too. "You've gotten taller."

Hiro's eyes widened as he realized that, indeed, he had. He hadn't noticed it before, because GoGo had always been this larger-than-life presence to him, with her dyed hair and sleek motorbike and no-nonsense attitude.

"I'm seventeen," Hiro said stupidly, then winced because GoGo was smart and she could certainly do the math.

The corner of GoGo's mouth twitched. "Hop on, genius," she said, gesturing to her bike. "You've got some talking to do."


	3. Keeping Pace

_Chapter 2: Keeping Pace_

* * *

"What about Friday?"

"Sorry, can't."

"Saturday?"

"Probably not."

"Jeez." Fred exhaled loudly, his sigh echoing through the phone Tadashi held against his ear. "And I thought _I _was busy."

"Doing what?" laughed Tadashi, pausing to hold the door open for an elderly women exiting the first floor of the high-rise.

The line went quiet for a moment before Fred spoke again. "Filming."

Tadashi frowned. "Filming?"

"San Fransokyo has a wild side," disclosed Fred. Tadashi could hear him shuffling something around on the other end. "Which you would know if, you know, you ever got outside of your cubicle."

"It's not a cubicle," Tadashi said good-humoredly, pressing the elevator button that would take him to the twelfth floor. "And I'm not _that_ shut-in."

"I'm just saying, dude, you could stand to loosen up a little."

The elevator doors dinged open and before Tadashi could respond, his phone was whisked out of his hand, replaced by an already-peeled banana. Honey Lemon stood in front of him, looking chipper as always, decked out in a pink blazer and bright yellow pumps.

"Hi, Freddie!" she interjected smoothly, her eyes combing over Tadashi's appearance as she spoke into his phone; with one hand, she reached out to fix his collar.

"Honey Lemon," Tadashi could hear Fred's grin, "if it isn't my favorite gal."

Honey Lemon giggled. At the same time, she made a motion with her free hand, gesturing for Tadashi to eat his banana. "You haven't visited lately."

"Alas, I've been awfully busy," sighed Fred.

"Doing what?" asked Honey Lemon.

"Well, you know. Philanthropic stuff…"

Rolling his eyes, Tadashi finished the rest of the banana, holding his hand out to take his phone back.

"Okay, Fred," he said, speaking a little louder to make himself heard, "I have to go now."

"Oh, hey, Tadashi, totally forgot you were there," quipped Fred, before Tadashi ended the call.

Sighing, he looked at Honey Lemon. "Why do we put up with him again?"

"Friends are the family you choose," Honey Lemon answered without missing a beat. "By the way, Tadashi, I like your tie today!"

Tadashi looked down in surprise. It was a simple red and white number, and, in all honesty, he couldn't remember picking it out that morning. "Thanks."

"Wasabi—"

"Is right here," said the curly-haired man, his nose buried in a sheaf of papers as he rounded the corner. "Good morning, Tadashi."

"Morning, Wasabi," grinned Tadashi.

"You've got a meeting with the board today," reminded Wasabi, handing him a folder.

"I know." Tadashi had tossed and turned all night thinking about it. He started to move, getting ready to put his briefcase away in his office.

Honey Lemon stopped him, tapping his cheek. "You missed a spot shaving," she informed.

"Right."

o.O.o

It was hard not to feel jittery. Tadashi had been doing this for months now, but he still hadn't gotten used to the sensation of being the youngest person in the room, the feeling of having four other pairs of eyes trained expectantly on him. It felt like he was onstage trying to win his way into SFIT all over again.

On the other hand, the proof that he'd succeeded in that endeavor sat right across from him, looking on with kind, encouraging eyes. Tadashi had been relieved beyond measure when Professor Callaghan had agreed to serve on his board of directors—his mentor had been with him through thick and thin, through all the fluctuations and failings and, finally, successes of Tadashi's college life, and it was nice to have a familiar face in the meeting room. Professor Callaghan's steady demeanor often acted as a counterweight to the high-powered, freewheeling mentality of some of the other members—namely, Alistair Krei.

"All right, what have you got today, young man?" Krei asked, busy readjusting the cufflinks of his suit.

Tadashi blanched slightly at Krei's choice of words but didn't say anything. The fact remained that he was, indeed, a "young" man—though Krei's insistence on using that phrase every chance he got was slightly annoying. But some things couldn't be helped, and Tadashi had more important concerns.

"Well," Tadashi cleared his throat, shuffling through the papers in front of him, "last month, we left off discussing whether we were going to sell a line of nursing bots at a discount to the university for research purposes—"

"Hold on," interrupted Krei, "why the discount?"

Callaghan coughed sternly, glaring at Krei from across the table, but Krei paid him no attention.

"They're a bit worried about finances after having to rebuild part of campus after last year's explosion," Tadashi reminded Krei. "Anyways, it's good visibility for us—and I trust the Institute. Good things happen there." He locked eyes with Professor Callaghan, who nodded in approval.

"Fair enough," said Krei, leaning back in his seat and pressing the pads of his fingers together. "How many are we thinking?"

"Eight was the request."

"All right. What else?"

"Staffing," said Tadashi, catching sight of the Post-It note Wasabi had attached to one of the pages. "We need someone who can commute between our production and design center easily, take some of the load off of Wasabi and Honey's hands so they can manage the office more smoothly."

"What kind of qualifications are we looking for?" asked Callaghan.

"Not a lot, really," said Tadashi. "We just need someone who's fast and efficient. It'd be nice if they had an eye for industrial design so maybe they could help with quality control, but that's not strictly necessary."

"How badly do we need this employee?"

"Relax, Callaghan," Krei chimed in, waving a hand. "New hires are a sign that the company's growing. That's a good thing."

"Wasabi and I will handle everything," reassured Tadashi. "We've already drafted the ad. But speaking of growth…" he tapped the notepad before him with a pen. "We need to finalize the whole Yokai Inc. deal."

"I say go for it."

Tadashi's head snapped up, surprised. He wasn't the only one—Alistair Krei had propped himself up on one elbow and was leaning slightly over the table, looking at Professor Callaghan in confusion.

"Hold on, Callaghan, did I hear you correctly?"

"I said, 'go for it,'" Callaghan repeated, glaring at Krei.

"But just last meeting you were adamantly opposed to the idea."

Professor Callaghan crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. "It's like you said, Alistair. The company is growing. And it still needs to grow more. This seems like a prime opportunity. If anything, I'm surprised you haven't pushed for it, what with your unhealthy fixation with profit."

"_There's_ the Callaghan I know," said Krei, wagging a finger. "Never let it be said that I don't take kindly to criticism. Anyhow, what does our CEO think?" The two men turned their attention to Tadashi.

"I vote no."

"No?"

Tadashi cleared his throat, trying to add firmness to his tone. "I don't think they're the sector of the market we're aiming for."

"Oh, Tadashi," said Krei, smiling amusedly, "then we _make_ them our sector of the market."

"This is a military tech company we're talking about," Tadashi protested.

Krei waved a hand. "Every military has its doctors. We're selling nurse-bots. I fail to see the problem."

"The problem is that Yokai Inc. specializes in _weaponry_. On top of that, they're only interested in the programmable chips, not the nurse-bots themselves, which strikes me as a little suspicious, don't you think?"

"Tadashi," Professor Callaghan said gently, "No company is perfect. Now is not the time to worry about some ideal. We don't have the luxury of being picky."

"If we don't hold true to some sort of vision now, how are we going to in the future?" argued Tadashi. "I thought—"

"The fact remains that we need money," Krei reminded abruptly. "You're a smart kid, young man. I'm sure you know well enough that it doesn't grow on trees."

"Then give me some time," said Tadashi. "I just met with someone from Big Future yesterday, and I think he's interested. It's a long-term partnership, too; I just need time to hammer out the details. But hold off on Yokai Inc. Trust me," he added, appealing to Professor Callaghan in particular.

Callaghan looked uncertain for a moment before his brow relaxed and he nodded. "All right, Tadashi. I trust your judgment."

"Guess I can't argue," said Krei, placing his hands flat on the table as if ready to push away from it, though he paused, waiting for Tadashi's approval.

Tadashi's shoulders lowered in relief, though he tried not to make it too obvious. "Meeting dismissed."

o.O.o

"Hey Wasabi, have you seen Hiro?" wondered Tadashi.

It wasn't unusual for Hiro to disappear from the office floor; he tended to get stir-crazy during the summer, and San Fransokyo was a city ripe for exploring. But he and Tadashi usually touched base with each other first, especially since Tadashi had taken to staying at work longer hours. Even with the lingering tension from their fight hanging between them, the unspoken promise remained: brothers looked out for each other.

"Yeah, he took off a while ago," said Wasabi, busy rearranging the pushpins on the corkboard according to their color. "Looked like he was ready for a picnic or something."

"A picnic?" Tadashi racked his brain, trying to remember any mention about a friend Hiro might be having said picnic with.

Or maybe his little brother was just having a feast all to himself. The seventeen-year-old could certainly eat that much, he knew.

"…dashi?" trailed off Wasabi, looking at him expectantly. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, fine," said Tadashi, shaking himself back to the business at hand.

He'd ask Hiro about his picnic later.

o.O.o

"Wait, no, redo!"

GoGo arched an eyebrow but obliged, reaching into the bag in her lap and pulling out another gummy bear, which she tossed into the air.

Hiro tried to catch it in his mouth but missed, watching as it bounced off his nose and onto the checkered picnic blanket below them.

"Damn, I thought I had it that time."

GoGo snorted, picking through the bag to locate several green gummy bears and tossing them one by one into her mouth. The corner of her lips twitched into a smile, and Hiro narrowed his eyes.

"What's so funny?"

"Hearing you curse—it's weird."

"Hey," said Hiro, turning red, "it's not like I'm twelve anymore."

"You do still have the same hair, though," pointed out GoGo, leaning back on one hand, her other arm propped on one knee. "Seriously, do you ever get your hair cut?"

"It's not that long," frowned Hiro, reaching up to tug the lock of hair that always fell between his eyebrows, going cross-eyed as he looked at it. "Anyways, you should be nicer to me, because I brought food."

Ceremoniously, he flipped open the lid of the picnic basket, pulling out two pulled pork sandwiches and some sodas he'd grabbed from the Japanese grocery store down the road—grape for GoGo, strawberry for him. He popped them open, delighting in the sound the little ball made as it dropped down into the tube, clinking against the sides.

"Hiro…" said GoGo, accepting the drink with a conflicted look, "You don't have to keep bringing food. There's a bunch of shops right around the corner—"

"I know," Hiro interrupted, as he had countless times before, "but I wanted to do something nice. After everything you did for me."

"Right," said GoGo, averting her eyes to focus on the sandwich in front of her. She picked at the plastic wrapping, and Hiro watched her carefully, noticing how her shoulders had tensed up.

It wasn't a lie, what he'd said. He did want to help, and it wasn't hard to bring food for GoGo; Aunt Cass chalked up any extra food Hiro took to the fact that he was a growing teenage boy. But Hiro's motives went deeper than simple repayment. The first night, he'd been so caught up in reuniting with GoGo that he hadn't noticed it, but as they started meeting during the daytime, Hiro began to realize that wasn't the only one who had changed in five years. There was something warier about GoGo. It was as if someone had sharpened her edges, even as they sanded down other parts of her—Hiro had noticed the fraying sleeves of her jackets, the circles under her eyes, the way she sometimes hunched her shoulders as if she didn't want to be recognized, where once she had walked straight-backed, proud.

Hiro wanted to know why, even if he didn't know how to ask.

"So, have you apologized to your brother yet?" prompted GoGo as she finally succumbed to the offer of food and bit into her sandwich.

It was his turn to avoid GoGo's gaze. "No."

"Why not?"

"I just…" Hiro picked at the hole in his jeans. "I know that I said some jerk things. But I wasn't totally in the wrong. I mean, we barely spend time with each other anymore, but he acts like he still gets to tell me what to do. How is that fair?"

"He's your family," shrugged GoGo, studying him carefully. "And family always looks after each other."

"Right_,_" huffed Hiro, scrunching up his nose. "Even when you don't want them to."

"What do you have against college anyways?" asked GoGo, pulling out a pickle and dropping it on his sandwich. Hiro snapped it up, chewing.

"It just doesn't make _sense._ Not when I could be doing real work." After a beat, he added, "And I guess—I guess I feel like I'm just being shoved to the side. I may not act like it, but I do get why Tadashi is so busy all the time, and I'm really happy that the company's doing well. I just wish he'd let me be a part of it."

"Give him time," advised GoGo, rolling her neck as she took a sip of her soda and looked up toward the clouds.

Hiro nodded, looking down at his lap. Swallowing nervously, he worked up the courage to ask, "What about you, GoGo?"

GoGo looked at him sharply. "What about me?"

"How are things in your life?"

There was a heavy pause where Hiro was afraid that GoGo would get up and walk away, but it subsided as she exhaled heavily and tilted her head back, speaking toward the sky. "To be honest, Hiro, not great."

"Really?" Hiro crawled closer to her, bringing his knees to his chest.

"Yeah. Money's been tight, and my job situation's been less than ideal."

"Oh."

"Oh?" echoed GoGo, raising an eyebrow. "Some comfort you are."

"'Give it time,'" Hiro quoted back at her, grinning when she dug an elbow into his side. "Seriously, though, you'll find something. I know you will."

GoGo cast him a sidelong glance. "What makes you so sure?"

"'Cause you're awesome," Hiro said simply, flopping onto his back and staring up at the sky.

Eventually, he heard the mat crinkle as GoGo settled next to him, her hands folded across her stomach. "Too bad I can't get paid to look after you, huh?" she mused.

"Yeah," sighed Hiro, eyes tracing the outline of the clouds drifting by. He felt younger, somehow. It probably had to do with GoGo—she didn't seem to expect or want anything from him, content with just listening, with letting him be while she watched over him. Like how it'd been before, when she'd accompanied him to the bot-fighting arenas, until—

(_until she left,_ the back of his mind whispered, pressing him to ask her why.)

But Hiro had asked enough questions for the day. Instead, he turned his head slightly, blowing some of the hair out of his face (okay, so maybe GoGo was right—it _was_ getting a little long), and said, "GoGo?"

"Yes, Hiro?"

"I'm glad I found you again."

It was silent as GoGo reached to her right to grab the bag of gummy bears, depositing it on Hiro's stomach, and Hiro was prepared to take that as an answer, remembering how she'd always conveyed things more through actions than words, but GoGo surprised him by speaking.

"Me too, Hiro."


	4. One Step at a Time

**A/N: **GoGo's POV (and maybe some undertones of Tomadashi? :P)

* * *

_Chapter 3: One Step At a Time_

* * *

She didn't belong here. GoGo could tell from the minute she walked through the glass doors—a lifetime navigating San Fransokyo's Dragon District had made her adept at snap judgments and quick decisions. Awkwardly, she clutched her keys tighter. The hair accessories of the plastic figurine attached to her key ring dug into her palm.

"Can I help you?" asked the receptionist, gaze flicking over GoGo disinterestedly before returning to the holographic screen in front of her. Silver half-moon glasses perched daintily on her nose, and GoGo swallowed, comparing the woman's freshly-pressed outfit to the too-short skirt GoGo had managed to dig up.

_Woman up, GoGo_, she thought. _You can get through this._

"Yes, actually," GoGo responded coolly, reaching up to surreptitiously pick a piece of lint off her blazer. "I'm here for an interview. With Hamada Industries."

"Oh, I see." The receptionist blinked, her attention captured more fully. "Just a moment." She brought a finger to her ear, head tilting to the side slightly, before she spoke again: "Yes, Mr. Hamada? You have someone here to see you." After the call ended, the receptionist nodded toward the chairs in the center of the lobby. "Mr. Hamada and his assistant will be down shortly. You can take a seat, if you'd like."

"Thanks," said GoGo, slipping her keys back into her bag and walking over to the seating area. She ran a finger along the black embroidered triangles decorating the blue upholstery and had just made up her mind to sit down when the elevators dinged open behind her.

"Miss Tanaka?"

GoGo looked over her shoulder, her mouth suddenly dry. _I'm really doing this._

"That would be me."

Two men strode toward her. The first was lean and clean-shaven, his black hair combed to the side, his face bright with an open, easygoing appeal. Close behind him followed the second man, whose bushy tangle of hair contrasted with his neat beard.

The two of them stopped in front of her. The larger man in particular seemed to be categorizing every detail of her appearance, and GoGo could almost imagine his assessment: _sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. _She resisted the urge to ball her hands into fists, forcing them to relax at her side instead.

"I'm Tadashi," said the shorter man, extending a hand. His grip was firm, but reassuring, and as GoGo got a closer look at him, she felt something in the back of her mind spark with familiarity. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be returned—Tadashi's brown eyes, while friendly, didn't indicate any sign of recognition, and GoGo chalked off her own reaction to nerves.

"Wasabi," said the other man, tucking his folder under his arm to shake her hand. "And you're Leiko, correct?"

"Right," said GoGo. There was an awkward pause after she answered; too late, GoGo wished she had thought to smile.

"Right, so, we'll be conducting your interview upstairs," said Tadashi. "I hope you don't mind following us up to the office?"

"No," consented GoGo, pulling the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder.

Satisfied, Tadashi and Wasabi turned. As they passed by the reception desk, Tadashi raised a hand in greeting—"Thanks, Mona," and received a warm smile in response.

Meanwhile, GoGo fought down a scowl—_couldn't be that friendly with me, huh?_ she silently accused Mona, but her narrowed eyes were lost upon the receptionist, who had returned to her work.

Inside the elevator, GoGo took the time to study her potential employers more closely. Wasabi, despite his large frame, occupied less space than GoGo would have expected; he kept his arms close to his sides as he stood in one corner, flipping through what GoGo could only guess was her resume. Meanwhile, Tadashi leaned against the other side of the elevator, hands resting on the railing, his suit jacket open at the waist. His fingers tapped restlessly as he watched the doors slide shut, and GoGo noticed something she hadn't before: he looked tired.

But it was the kind of tired that hid itself behind a warm grin and bright eyes, the kind of tired that buried itself deeper if you spent too long searching for its signs. Still—_at least I'm not the only one covering something up,_ thought GoGo.

As if sensing her scrutiny, Tadashi's eyes met hers. Briefly, he smiled.

Quickly, GoGo jerked her eyes away. The last thing she wanted to do was come across as rude or forward, and _god, _thought GoGo, the metal wall cool against the base of her head as she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, _I really need this job._

o.O.o

Mona's stoic expression and silver frames had in no way prepared GoGo for the next woman, who practically yanked her out of the elevator as the doors slid open.

"Oh, goody, you're finally here! Come in, come in! Would you like anything to drink? I can make you some tea if you're willing to wait—"

"Honey—"

"Oh, just give me a minute, Wasabi," huffed Honey, using the hand not clutching GoGo's arm to wave over her shoulder. "I just want to get this girl settled before the two of you grill her."

"It's an interview, not an interrogation, Honey," Tadashi said, his voice edged with amusement.

Honey sighed. "I know, but—oh, goodness, where are my manners?" she gasped, eyes widening behind her large pink glasses, her face drawing even closer. "I'm Honey Lemon! I'm in charge of marketing here."

GoGo risked a glance toward Tadashi, who nodded in encouragement.

"I'm Leiko."

"_Leiko,_" gushed Honey Lemon, "what a beautiful name. I really hope you get this job! We could do with a few more females around here." She winked sunnily. "Now, about that drink—"

"Maybe later," Tadashi interjected smoothly. He managed to get in between Honey and GoGo and gently guided GoGo forward, all the while telling Honey Lemon, "The sooner we finish up, the sooner she'll be in your hands."

At this, GoGo twisted her neck to look up at him, her eyes widening in horror. Noticing her expression, Tadashi chuckled.

"She gets less overwhelming, I promise," he said.

Wasabi was bringing up the rear after having paused to consult with Honey Lemon about some issue or another, and as they turned the corner toward what GoGo assumed was Tadashi's office, Honey Lemon's bright voice chased her down the hall: "Good luck, Leiko!"

_Luck,_ GoGo thought grimly. She was definitely going to need it.

o.O.o

Once, in high school, GoGo had wiped out in the skate park while testing out a new pair of roller blades. After hobbling home, she'd sat in the bathtub picking bits of gravel out of her torn up knees, wincing as she cleaned up her bloodied skin.

This interview was just as painful. Every question seemed like a jab, leaving her feeling raw and undefended: _can you talk to me about the four jobs you've held in the last two years? Why did you leave your last job? What are your strengths? Your weaknesses?_ In response, GoGo's answers grew more and more terse, her stomach sinking as she realized that she didn't _need_ to catalogue her weaknesses; Wasabi could probably list them as easily as flipping the pages of a magazine.

"What interests you about this job opening?"

"I like seeing how things are made and I don't mind being on the move." _Too clipped._

"Okay," said Wasabi, pausing to give her time to add more. When she didn't rush to fill in the gap, he went on to the next question. "Why do you want to work _here,_ specifically?"

"I..." GoGo hesitated, crossing her arms. _Too standoffish. _What did she want? Wasn't that the million dollar question? Enough money to pay the rent would be nice, for one, but she needed a better reason, one that would give her some chance of salvaging this conversation.

Her eyes flitted over to Tadashi. He had remained silent for most of the interview, letting Wasabi steer its course, only chiming in here and there in an attempt to inject ease into the atmosphere. He was trying hard to like her, she could tell. Wasabi looked at GoGo like she was a peg he needed to fit into its proper hole, but Tadashi looked at her like…

Like he had faith. He gave her the smallest of nods, chin dipping slightly, encouraging her to answer.

GoGo dropped her arms and took a breath, starting over. "The main problem at my other jobs was that I never felt like I belonged. And I think a good workplace should feel—should make you feel welcome. Like you're part of something bigger." She raised her eyes. Wasabi was nodding, which had to be a good sign. "And here," she paused, imagining Honey Lemon waiting for her with a steaming cup of tea, "I think I could be."

She'd hit upon something with her words; she could tell because they felt different when they left her mouth. Truer, more hopeful. _Let that be enough, _prayed GoGo.

Wasabi cleared his throat, but GoGo could tell that he hadn't been unaffected by her statement. Relieved, she relaxed in her seat.

"All right, we just have one last question, Miss Tanaka. It says here that you were in jail…"

Just as quickly, any hope GoGo had harbored vanished as she straightened, feeling her jaw tense. She wished, more than ever, for a stick of gum—anything to keep her from having to talk.

"Yes," she managed, throat tight.

Wasabi's eyes softened. "Thank you for your honesty," he said. "Now, could you explain why?"

Metal. Tires screeching. The smell of burnt rubber. A promise, one that neither Wasabi nor Tadashi would ever understand. "I…"

The door to Tadashi's study flew open and a gangly seventeen-year-old with shaggy hair and a scruffy hoodie burst through, already halfway through a sentence—"Tadashithisisreallyimportantwhatdidyoudowithmypapers," stealing whatever words GoGo had to say.

_Oh._ It all clicked into place, the spark of familiarity GoGo had felt upon meeting Tadashi earlier. Because in the doorway stood his younger brother. Despite how unkempt Hiro was, his resemblance to Tadashi bled through in the swell of his cheeks and the line of his nose. And GoGo had seen Tadashi once, too; years and years ago, before he had ever appeared on the list of _30 Under 30 to Watch_, though his face had been disguised by the dim lighting of a street corner and he'd appeared much more harried than the polished businessman that sat in front of her now.

"Hiro, I'm in the middle of a meeting—"

"_GoGo?_" spluttered Hiro, his earlier sentence screeching to a stop. He took in the rest of her outfit, understanding dawning as he eyed her skirt and blazer. A note of excitement crept into his voice as he asked, "Are you here for a job?"

Meanwhile, Wasabi and Tadashi's attention shuttled between GoGo and Hiro, trying to put together the pieces.

"You know my little brother?"

"Yes," said GoGo, unable to look away from Hiro and the hope blooming on his face. It was too much. He was looking at her like he had the first time she'd rescued him, all wide-eyed wonder and excitement, and GoGo's heart twinged with guilt. She didn't deserve this kind of adoration.

_I need air,_ thought GoGo. She needed to get out of this stuffy room and back on her bike, down to the streets where she could just ride, where she could let the wind whiz by her ears and figure out some new plan for her future, because this was a mess in the making.

"Wait, this is seriously the craziest thing. Wasabi, you've got to give her the job," urged Hiro.

Wasabi ignored him. "I think you should go," he said quietly to GoGo instead. "We'll contact you later."

GoGo agreed with the call, but part of her rankled at being dismissed. Numbly, she grabbed her bag. She gave the barest of nods to Hiro as she passed through the door and could feel the confusion radiating off of him at her cold response. When GoGo turned back to the room, Tadashi was still staring at Hiro, his brow furrowed in confusion, and Wasabi had stood up, ready to close the door behind her.

"Thank you," GoGo mumbled, and then she was walking down the hallway, past Honey Lemon, who uttered a startled "Oh!", past the water fountains and the potted plants and into the elevator, where the doors slid shut and GoGo shoved a stick of gum into her mouth and chewed, thinking, dryly: _That could have gone better._

o.O.o

"You have to hire her."

Tadashi jumped, spinning around from where he'd rested his forearm against the glass to look out the window. It was hard to discern details from this height, but Tadashi could imagine which of the black dots milling about below had been their job candidate—one had peeled away from the building earlier, racing down the street, and somehow that seemed fitting for the woman he'd met.

A woman it turned out Hiro already knew.

"You shouldn't have burst in like that, Hiro," sighed Tadashi, resting his knuckles on the surface of his desk. "I had the blinds down—you _know_ what that means."

"I'm sorry." Hiro looked at the carpet, chastised, but only for a moment before he turned the full force of his gaze upon Tadashi again. "But seriously, Tadashi."

"I don't know, Hiro. I'm not the only one making the decision. And while we're on the topic, how do you know this girl, anyways?"

"We met a long time ago. Remember that time I snuck out to a bot-fight?"

Tadashi leveled him with a glare. "You're going to have be more specific, seeing as you've done that _multiple_ times."

Hiro rolled his eyes. "Okay, the time I snuck out to a bot-fight and got saved by someone's sweet ride."

Thinking back, Tadashi couldn't remember much aside from his blind panic at waking up and finding Hiro's bed empty. But bits and pieces of the rest of the night began to float through his memory: a sleek black motorbike, a helmeted, petite rider.

"That was Leiko?"

Hiro gave him a funny look but didn't correct him. "Yeah."

"But that was five years ago, so…" A piece snapped into place. "Those picnics Wasabi mentioned you've been going on recently. Those were with her?"

"Yeah."

"So, what, the two of you have been keeping in touch all these years?"

"Well…" hedged Hiro, "it was all a coincidence, really. I was walking around with Baymax and we just…reconnected."

Tadashi frowned. Hiro had shoved his hands in his pockets, which usually meant that he was hiding something. Tadashi wanted to ask where exactly Hiro and Baymax had been "walking around" when they bumped into Leiko, but he knew that Hiro would just evade the question. Hiro seemed adept at evading a lot of things, lately.

"Hiro, what do you even know about her?"

"She's nice. She puts on a tough act but she really cares about people, and she's strong and smart and—"

"She's been in jail," Tadashi said flatly.

Hiro's eyes flashed, but he didn't seem surprised. And therein lay the problem. What kind of trouble would Tadashi be courting by hiring this person? Whoever she was, she'd managed to inspire a fierce loyalty from Hiro, but Tadashi wondered exactly how much his brother knew of Leiko's past.

"Please, Tadashi," Hiro started up again, undeterred. "She's had a hard time of things these last few years, but I _know_ she's a good person. Just give her chance."

When was the last time Hiro had truly asked him for something? His last request had been for Tadashi to look at his sketches all those days ago, and _that_ had ended in disaster. If this one effort could mend the gap somehow…and Leiko had all the credentials, save for that one frustrating blank. Tadashi would just have to keep an eye on her. Wasabi might have reservations, but Honey Lemon would be elated…

"I'll see what I can do."

Hiro blinked. "Wait. Really?"

"Yes, Hiro, really."

"I…_thank_ you," said Hiro, surging forward. The force of his hug made Tadashi take a step back, startled, before he returned Hiro's grip. When was the last time they'd hugged? Tadashi couldn't help smiling as he felt Hiro grimace and complain, "_You're crushing me." _His little brother was a beanpole.

"All right, knucklehead," said Tadashi, pulling back and pushing Hiro's head slightly. "Now what were you saying about your papers?"


	5. The First Foot Forward

**A/N: **lots of bonding going on in this chapter! :)

* * *

_Chapter 4: The First Foot Forward_

* * *

The door unstuck from its frame with a shearing noise as GoGo kicked it, one hand wrapped firmly around the doorknob to keep the door from flying open too wide. She tossed her bag on the floor before hitting the light switch, watching the bulb overhead flicker on. As it did, it illuminated a gray splotch on the carpet that GoGo had unsuccessfully tried to remove, as well as the chip in the wall from the first time GoGo had forced her door open.

From the kitchen ledge, her home contact portal blinked red, indicating she had a message. GoGo wavered for a moment before opting to ignore it, heading for the fridge instead. She found a quarter-full jug of orange juice and drank directly from it, tossing it crisply into the recycling bin afterwards. Two more seconds of rummaging yielded a cheese stick, which GoGo bit in half before shutting the refrigerator door.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the fridge's cool chrome surface. On the countertop opposite her, the red light continued to flash, almost impatiently.

_What are you so scared of? _it seemed to ask.

But GoGo was determined to take things at her own speed. She'd waited three days without receiving any news; now that it was here, it could wait a little longer. Besides, she could already guess what she would hear.

To distract herself, GoGo dug a sketchpad out of her drawer before walking over to the couch and flopping backwards in it. She hooked the strap of her purse with her foot to drag it closer to her before bending over to pull a pencil out. Then, leaning back, she stared at the page she'd started on the night before: a diagram of a wheel.

The edges were thin, almost bladelike, though their thickness increased toward the middle. In GoGo's mind, they were yellow and purple, though on paper they were only black and white. Sleek, streamlined. _Maglev discs. _The words spoke of power, motion, _magic._

And it was all a dream. Because where would she ever get the materials for a project like this? Where would she get the funding or the facilities?

Still. Everybody was chasing after something.

Sighing, GoGo set down the pencil and sketchpad and turned to look at her answering machine again. _The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can move on._

She walked over to the portal and placed her index finger on the finger pad, triggering a blue light in response.

"One message. Display?" queried the machine.

"Display."

A beam of light shot out, transforming into a glowing rectangle. Wasabi appeared on the screen, his hands folded in front of them. Part of GoGo calmed as his face came into view; she could handle this. She had to.

"Good afternoon, Miss Tanaka. I wanted to deliver this news in real-time, but—" his gaze darted toward something off-screen for a moment, "—_some_one insisted that we tell you as soon as possible, so…" he took a breath as if bracing himself, "Miss Tanaka, I'm here to inform you that—"

"—You're hired!" Hiro's face swung into the frame, practically glowing. Behind him, Wasabi made a choked noise: _"You said you would just watch!"_

"Saying something is very different from promising—"

GoGo shut off the screen, cutting Hiro off.

_You're hired._ Impossible. Wasabi had had all her papers in front of him, the facts laid bare. _Can you tell us why you went to jail?_ There was no way…

_Hiro._ The realization hit her with a wave of nausea. He must have lobbied for her, begged Tadashi or Wasabi or both. And on the basis of what—a few shared lunches? A handful of rescues from five years ago?

She deserved to get a job based on merit, not on whatever space Hiro had eagerly but naively carved out for her in his life. And that space would inevitably shrink once he saw her on a daily basis, once she faded from protector to, simply, _person—_too quiet, too blunt, too tired.

That settled it, then. The mess of feelings in GoGo's stomach hardened into a decision: she'd turn down the job. Thank Wasabi and Tadashi for their kindness, explain that maybe she wasn't such a good fit for the company after all. There were other roads she could take, ones that didn't involve idolization that would only end in disillusionment.

Decided, GoGo turned the display back on. There was no harm in viewing the rest of the message now, after all.

"—and you should know better by now anyways, Wasabi," Hiro resumed, looking over his shoulder. GoGo snorted; she could just imagine the cheeky grin the kid was wearing.

"_Anyways,_" said Hiro, turning back to the camera, "Wasabi's going to give you the actual details but the gist is that you're supposed to start on Monday at—what time was it again…?"

"Eight o'clock," Wasabi supplied exasperatedly. "Honestly, Hiro, I have it written down _right here_."

"Oh, thanks," said Hiro, grabbing a tablet from Wasabi. He cleared his throat, puffing up his chest slightly in his best impersonation and deepening his voice. "At eight o'clock, Wasabi will meet you in the main lobby, and then escort—_pfft, _Wasabi, what are you, a butler?—you upstairs, where Honey will show you your office. Point is, you're _in, _GoGo!" said Hiro, dropping the act. "Welcome to the family!"

"Sorry, Miss Tanaka, we usually aren't this unprofessional," Wasabi cut in, looking very much like he wanted to tear his hair out. "If you have any questions you can contact me at…"

But GoGo wasn't listening, too stuck on Hiro's words: _welcome to the family. _Not an invitation, but a guarantee.

She looked around her apartment: the faded walls, the well-worn black couch, the refrigerator stocked for one. The flickering lightbulb and the dishes in the sink and the lone rag on the countertop. Hers and hers _alone._

She walked back to the coffee table and picked up her sketchpad, tearing out a blank page and writing, _Hamada Industries. Monday, 8 AM, _on it before attaching it to the fridge.

Her bike might have been a dream. But this wasn't.

o.O.o

She arrived at work half an hour early. This time, the receptionist was more welcoming, nodding at GoGo before contacting Wasabi through her earpiece: "She's here."

"I suppose promptness _was_ part of the job description," Wasabi said good-naturedly as he exited the elevator, glancing at his watch. "Nice to see you—do you prefer GoGo or Leiko?"

"Leiko," GoGo said sharply. "Only Hiro calls me the other one."

"Hiro always has his own ways of doing things, doesn't he?" said Wasabi. "Here." He handed her a navy-colored folder.

GoGo looked at him in confusion.

"Your first assignment," Wasabi explained. "Ten dollars says Honey's going to monopolize you once I bring you upstairs, so I figured I'd explain while I still have time."

"Okay," said GoGo, opening the folder and flipping through the first few pages. "Go ahead."

"As you already know, Hamada Industries is generously sponsored by Krei Tech, and the office space we have here is the brain of the operation, per se. Our actual manufacturing center is a little ways out of town, and we need someone to monitor the systems over there—make sure things are going smoothly, but also suggest improvements. Your resume indicated you have a background in industrial design, so your first assignment is a survey of the center. This is the general layout of the building." Wasabi indicated a green tab with his pointer finger, and GoGo realized that the folder had been helpfully sectioned out already. "Red is production quotas. Yellow is contact info."

"Do you do this for everyone?"

Wasabi shrugged. "Someone has to. And if Honey did it everything would have polka dots or flowers."

GoGo eyed the folder. "That must take a lot of time."

"It takes time on the front end, but saves time on the back end."

"So I write the report and then turn it in to you?"

"Me or Tadashi," said Wasabi. "To be honest, Tadashi's the faster reader, but he also has more on his hands, so it's up to you. And then we'll compare your assessment with ours and proceed from there."

"So this is more of a test."

"You have to start somewhere."

"What if I fail?"

Wasabi smiled. "You'll find that we don't give up on people easily here."

Nodding, GoGo waved toward the elevator. "Should we go up?"

Wasabi looked at his watch, eyes crinkling as he held it up for her to see. "8 on the dot. You've got a good sense of time."

GoGo shrugged. "I've always been that way." The doors opened and she stepped inside, turning and waiting for Wasabi to join her.

"And Leiko?"

GoGo paused, looking up from the elevator buttons. "Yes?"

"You're part of this team, now. I'm rooting for you."

o.O.o

Tadashi had been wrong about Honey Lemon—the second time GoGo met her wasn't any less overwhelming. This time, in fact, GoGo got a mouthful of hair as Honey swept forward, throwing her arms around GoGo.

"Um," GoGo muttered. Up close, GoGo became aware of how staggeringly _tall_ Honey Lemon was; GoGo barely came up to her shoulders.

Honey Lemon pulled back, tucking her flowing blonde hair behind her ears. "_Oh, _I'm so glad you're finally here! I got bitten by the design bug and went ahead and decorated your office; you have to see it. But first you need to eat."

"What?"

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," said Honey Lemon, waving a paper bag in front of GoGo's face. "And people always forget it when they're nervous. It's your first day of work, after all! Here." She pulled a muffin out of the paper bag, displaying it proudly. "Ta da!"

GoGo blinked, seeking out Wasabi for confirmation that she wasn't dreaming, only to find that Wasabi had disappeared around the corridor, leaving her defenseless against Honey Lemon's megawatt smile.

"Thanks," GoGo said finally, accepting the gift. She took a hesitant bite.

And promptly melted. It was cranberry-orange, and it felt as if a shock had been delivered to her system, like someone had packaged sunshine into fluffy muffin mix. GoGo struggled to find words, finally deciding that her time would be better spent shoving another bite into her mouth.

"Do you like it?" Honey Lemon asked eagerly.

"Mmf."

"Oh, thank goodness. I have more, if you'd like. I bake when I'm happy. Or stressed. Or anytime, really, but enough about me—come see your office!"

GoGo followed Honey Lemon around the corner to the end of the hall, where Honey Lemon threw open the door with a flourish.

"I didn't get a chance to make you a sign to put outside yet, but what do you think?"

"It's very…pink."

Which it was, from the stapler on the desk to the lampshade to the photo frames that sat waiting to be filled. A cushy pink folding club chair had been installed in a corner, and a bundle of pink pens gleamed in the penholder, which provided a splash of yellow.

GoGo's eyes smarted.

Beside her, Honey Lemon wrung her hands. "Oh dear…it's too much, isn't it? I _knew_ I shouldn't have—I always get carried away—"

"Honey." GoGo reached out, tentatively, to touch Honey Lemon's elbow. "It's okay."

"I'll fix it," declared Honey Lemon. "What's your favorite color?"

"I told you, this is fine—"

"Leiko," said Honey, in a voice that brooked no argument. "What's your favorite color?"

And with her wide eyes and the determined set of her features, she suddenly looked very much like—

GoGo softened, walking over to the desk and picking up the pink stapler, admiring it in the light.

"Purple," she finally answered.

o.O.o

"So how was your first day of work?" asked Hiro, falling into step beside GoGo as she left the building.

"Better than I thought it would be."

"Good," said Hiro, kicking at the sidewalk, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie. He was slouching a little, and GoGo snorted at his terrible posture.

"So how'd you do it?"

Hiro blinked at her, the picture of innocence. "What?"

"How'd you get me the job?"

"Oh." Hiro's cheeks pinked a little as he looked at the ground and then up at the sky. "I mean, I might've begged Tadashi. Just a little."

It was silent for a beat. And then GoGo reached up and shoved his shoulder.

Hiro staggered sideways. "Hey! What was that for?"

"Thanks, genius. But for the record, I can fight my own battles."

"I just wanted to do something nice, jeez," Hiro grumbled. "And it's not like you didn't have the qualifications, there was just…" he trailed off uncertainly.

"The jail thing," GoGo finished for him.

"Yeah." Hiro studied her carefully. "The jail thing. Do you want to talk about that or…?"

"No."

"Okay." Hiro nodded, unfazed. "Hey, have you been to that kobe burger place—"

"Race you," said GoGo, elbowing him in the side, and the two of them took off running.

o.O.o

"Leiko?"

GoGo looked up from the papers she was reading to find Tadashi standing in the doorway to her office, one hand raised against the open door as if to knock. It'd been four days since she'd started working, but this was the first time GoGo had seen him since her interview.

Tadashi seemed to sense this, because he grimaced slightly. "Sorry, I'm way overdue in welcoming you, but things have been…" he gestured aimlessly with his other hand. "Anyways, I'm about to go out for some coffee. Care to join me?"

It was a friendly offer, but there was something focused about Tadashi's expression that told GoGo this was about more than just coffee or delayed welcomes.

"Sure," she said, grabbing her purse.

The coffee shop was a few paces away from the office, and Tadashi walked alongside GoGo unhurriedly, his hands tucked loosely in the pockets of his slacks. When they got there, Tadashi beckoned for her to go ahead of him, the bell above the door jingling softly as he closed it.

"What can I get for you today?" the barista asked.

"Iced mocha," answered GoGo, unzipping her purse.

"I got it," interjected Tadashi, stepping up to the counter and handing over a crisp bill. "Vanilla bean for me, please."

Slowly, GoGo zipped her purse back up and went to wait for the order. Tadashi grabbed a few napkins as he joined her; GoGo accepted one, wrapping it around the chilled cup of her drink as she eyed him.

"You can tell me what this is really about, you know."

Tadashi paused mid-sip, caught off-guard as he stared at her, looking somewhat chastened. "That obvious, huh?" he asked with a self-deprecating smile.

"A little." It was hard to imagine Tadashi being able to hide anything—he had such an open look about him, the same earnestness that Hiro had, though it was shaped by a few more years of weariness and didn't have as much of a mischievous edge.

Tadashi chuckled. "Let's sit down first."

She followed him to a small table by the window, watching him warily as he pulled out a chair for her and waited for her to sit before seating himself.

"So Hiro tells me you two go quite a ways back," he began immediately.

"Five years."

"That's right. It was you that night, wasn't it. On the black motorbike?"

GoGo blinked, surprised that he remembered. "Yeah. That was me."

"I never did thank you, did I?" he asked, fiddling with his straw before peering up at her. "Thank you."

"He told me you were busy a lot. Back then," clarified GoGo. "With some sort of project…?"

"Ah." Tadashi smiled—a small one, but full of pride. "That was when Baymax started. His first incarnation, at least."

GoGo nodded. "You've come a long way since then."

"In some ways." There was something slightly sad about Tadashi's expression as he spoke those words, but it was lost to GoGo when he looked down at the table instead, tracing a shape with the ring of water left behind by his drink. "But I'm here to talk about Hiro. The truth is, I don't know what to think about you yet. Wasabi and Honey Lemon have had nothing but good things to say so far, and Hiro likes you. But Hiro…he's impulsive, sometimes, and not as invulnerable as he thinks he is. In the past it was botfighting, now it's—who knows? Point is, I've looked after him for years, and that's never going to change. Even when he thinks he doesn't need me anymore, even if—even if he's found somebody else." He looked up, then, and GoGo found herself trapped in his brown eyes and the determination that burned there. "Are we clear on that?"

In that moment, GoGo understood how Tadashi could command such adoration from those around him. Because he had a loyalty of his own, a warmth you wanted to be a part of. As Tadashi had admitted outright, he didn't know what to think of her yet. But GoGo wanted, suddenly, for it to be good.

"Understood," she said quietly.

Tadashi only nodded, but his eyes told her that he was grateful.

And that was enough.


End file.
